September 11th
by Confizzledworld
Summary: Where was Mr. Jones when 9/11 happened? How was DeCe doing, when the Pentagon was attacked? The past is just the past, but can't we learn to make a better future?  Forgive errors, I rushed to write this.


[Conny]: I felt bad because I didn't post this story sooner. I know that Hetalia tones things down, makes them more humorous... but how do you make 9/11 funny? I had been watching a lot of documentaries of the terrorist attack, then remembered when it happened. I was only a kid, having fun with my friends. A teacher came into the room, going to my teacher. They talked, then the class was told to take a nap. I couldn't sleep, not when I heard the television turning on. I was listening, I was looking out the window. I heard a lot...and I wondered, "why on a pretty day?"

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. I do not mean to offend anyone by this story. I only mean to honor those who lost their lives that day.

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><p>Another Tuesday morning. People were streaming into the subways, just as I was. There's a meeting that I have to be at soon. I don't like waking up so early, but it's needed. The skies were clear, as blue as ever. I went up the escalator, then headed towards the elevators. There were many people, but there's too many people working here. Of course the north tower would be filled.<p>

People were talking about economy and how their business was doing. I didn't have anyone to talk to, at least not yet. I had to go up past the sky lobby, going to the near top of the tower. Once I step out of the small space, I take a breath. My cell phone rings, which is not something I usually get around this time. Who could it possibly be?

"Mr. Jones!" Ouch. My ear.

"DeCe, I thought I told you not to call around this time. Can't you and Adrian-" Why am I letting a teenager cut in?

"Mr. Jones, there's something important. A plane has been hijacked," he said. I was looking out the windows, seeing a black mass coming in fast. I'm a bit higher up, above it. "Mr. Jones!"

"DeCe. I'm going to have to call you back." I hung up, just as it impacted. The ground shock…the entire building swayed. All the lights flickered, people were screaming. Was that really a hijacked plane? I shock my head. This isn't the time to think.

"Oh, my God! What just happened?" a woman screamed, panicking and pacing around. This just isn't good. People were trying to use the elevator, but it wouldn't work. The buttons weren't working. Looking out to the windows, black smoke blocked out the clear blue sky. The temperature was being turned up.

"Everyone! Calm down, we have to go to the stairwells!" There has to be a way to escape. This is not the time for chaos, there needs to be some order. People clamped their mouths shut, yet the fear was still in their eyes. Groups formed, we all searched for a safe exit. All seemed to be fire filled and impassable. What are we supposed to do?

"Mr. Jones, we got all of the extinguishers we could find. There's a lot of people coming down the stairs. Is there any way we could get out of here?" Just how many are left up here? How much time has passed?

"There's only one way. Down." We'll have to risk it, if there's even a slight chance for our escape. How big was that plane? How bad is the lower levels? There's only one way to find out.

I was ahead of a huge group, clearing the way. The sprinkler system had kicked in for a moment, but was soon shut off. The wires were faulty. There was the tension in the air, its too quiet.

"Has anyone tried calling? Are cell phone towers down or something?" What am I supposed to do about y family? I have DeCe and Adrian home alone, they're only kids. Will Arthur watch over them if I don't make it? Will something bad happen to them too? I got a text message. I shouldn't check it, should I? The stairwell seems to be flameless for now. I flipped open my phone, seeing what was sent.

ANOTHER PLANE INCOMING. SOUTH TOWER.

My eyes widened. The ground shock again, my bones rattled. People shrieked, fearing what had just occurred. Why is this happening?

"Everyone, we have to keep going. There won't be much time left." Impending doom, that's the feeling that's settled in my stomach. We reached the end of the stairwell, there's so much debris in the way that we couldn't continue forward. I directed the group towards a door that would lead us onto another floor. I don't know which floor we're on, but the smoke is so thick. I ordered everyone to hold onto each other, have their shirts covering their faces. I stepped carefully, fearing that the next time I placed my foot down would be the last. My hands were able to find a doorway, leading into another staircase.

"Mister, what if we don't make it?" the young woman asked, as she held the door open for everyone behind her. She's too young to die. We're all too young to die. The terror branded in her eyes doesn't throw me off at all. Behind the shaken exterior, there's someone bold underneath. Just holding this door, even if it seems so small, is saving everyone.

"Don't worry. We're going to make it." I got ahead of the group, continuing our descent. There was too much smoke at this point. People were having a harder time to breathe. The more elderly of the group were lagging behind. The younger men and women were helping them move forward. People were mumbling behind me, all panicked. Their voices were muffled through their shirts.

"Dear, God. Help us."

"Please, Lord. Save us."

"United States of America… one nation under God," this voice sounded so bitter, yet so scared.

Someone was singing a hymn, loud enough for everyone to hear her calm voice. It eased my nerves, as it did for everyone else. She was the lady that held the door for everyone, if I remember right. The calm ended too quickly for me, when I realized something. This stairwell is blocked too. I told everyone to stop. I searched for a door that would open, but when I finally did…

This wasn't what I imagined. There was a giant hole, where all the smoke was escaping. The shrapnel from the plane still remains. A few of the braver of the group followed me, as we looked among the remains. There were some bodies, but they looked more like decaying limbs by this point. The fire has reached upwards, the smaller flames remained here. There was a huge gap in the floor, leading to the floors below. There was flames down there as well. I took one of the fire extinguishers, then looked down.

"Get everyone. I have a plan, but be careful where you step." The men nodded, then returned to the stairwell. I think I understand why I didn't lead us to the roof. There was a fire rising to meet heaven. Helicopters couldn't possibly get to us from the rooftops. They couldn't get close to the building at all. I took a deep breath, then took a leap of faith.

I didn't feel anything. My feet were numb, all of me was numb. The floor creaked under my weight, this is going to really be a leap of faith for everyone. Once I saw people coming closer to the edge of the upper floor, they realized.

"You can't make us jump," an older gentleman said.

"Sir, if you truly want to live-to go back to your family, then you have to jump. I'll caught all of you." A few jumped down without my help. The more daring and younger of the group.

"Dad, I'll help you down," a man said, to that old man. "Don't worry. You haven't let me down, so I won't let you down." Those who remained above came down. Those on the floor with me helped them down. I was thinking that the floor couldn't possibly hold us all, but once the last person came down…it was still intact.

"Everyone, we have to watch where we step." At least we could see a little bit, the large wound in the building gave us a short gasp of air. "Stay close, don't lose sight of the people near you." I took a hold of a hand, then moved forward. As our conga line inched ahead, I couldn't find a way towards a stairwell.

Were they all blocked? That's not possible. There has to be some place, somewhere. I soon realized something. It was really warm under the soles of my shoes.

"Mr. Jones, I think…we're still above the fire." I thought for sure that we cleared the flames. I thought we would be home free. "Will we really make it?"

"Just stay calm. I'm sure we will escape." Countries don't die. We can't. Can we…? I shock my head, clearing away the doubt. I have to be strong for everyone, if we're to escape. My phone buzzed again, I dare to stray my eyes.

PLANE HIT PENTAGON.

What...? I coughed, trying to keep my lungs clear of the dust and smoke. This is worse. It's more than an accident. It more than a threat. It's outright terrorism and an act of war.

"Watch out!" I stumbled forward, not noticing the hole in front of me. I felt onto the next floor, then heard a thunderous sound. There were many screams. Then...silence. Did the ceiling of the floor above come crashing down? Did they all really just go so swiftly?

I scrambled away from my deathbed surrounded by flames. I only have my body to carry, the weight of my nation is on my shoulders. I tried figuring out a way to keep going down. Nothing but escape was on my mind. Maybe people were still following behind. Maybe I'm still saving them. That I'm the hero.

"Is there anyone in here?" a voice called out, startling me.

"Over here!" The thick cloud of smoke obscured my vision. Out of the fire and flame, I stumbled upon a duo. Though the faces weren't familiar, I knew one thing. They are alive.

"Sir, get to the stairs. Get out of the building." Not another thought came to my mind as my feet carried towards the stairwell. It was still intact. People were still streaming downwards.

There wasn't too much of a hurry, but something pulled at my stomach. The Grim Reaper's chillingly cold, bony hands gripped my insides. God's hand is coming down to pass judgement upon me and my people.

Once I was outside, I notice something. The south tower is...gone. So much dust filled the air. So much debris. I noticed many people lying on the ground, their seemingly dead bodies stirring. I went to the closest person, helping them up. He was coughing severely, a thick layer of grey coated him. I tried getting him, along with others, towards a safer place. Away from the towers-tower...that I thought was indestructible. Other corpses moved, stumbling forward to the ambulances. My eyes dared to look up to the remaining tower, fearing the worst. A small form just fell. How many seconds would it take? I don't know. Was it a person? More debris? The shape had purpose. Didn't it?

"Sir, this way," a female officer said, directing me northward. I felt a sickening crunch within me. My eyes watered, as pain racked through my chest. I collapsed to my knees and let out a scream. It was muted by the toppling of the north tower. The smoke cloud surrounded me, blinded me. It was so loud, that it was so quiet. I was faintly aware that I was still crying. I removed my glasses, knowing I wouldn't be able to see anyways. Once everything came back to reality, I noticed I had been the only one still sitting up. Others were laying on the ground, protecting themselves. What is there to protect on me?

Someone recognized me. I don't know who. He told me to remain calm. That he would take me to a more secure location. But is there a safe place? A sanctuary? Are things going to be like this? Will my land be as war ridden as other nations?

I think a year has passed. Things have changed. I found two dark scars on my stomach. It's like I was stabbed with a cattle prod, or worse. It's still painful. I still think about the souls I couldn't save.

"Alfred, please talk us," Adrian said, trying to snap me out of it. His blue-lavender eyes bore through my glasses and into my soul. He brushed his black hair out of his face, unease rippling over him.

"Mr. Jones, please?" DeCe was hurt like I was. On his arm, there's a terrible burn. It's his good arm, the one he uses to defend himself.

"DeCe, go talk to the president for me. Adrian, talk to everyone else. Ivan, you don't have to talk to unless you want to." Do I really want those two to leave my side? Can I trust two boys alone?

My feet try to move, but I'm frozen to this desk.

Those who died that day are the heroes. They are the symbols of hope and prosperity. Though their deaths were tragic, their impact is everlasting. We can grow. We can stand strong. We can rebuild. We will remember.

We, the United States of America will survive.

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><p>[Conny]: Thank you for reading.<p> 


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